


Write Your Own Story

by Abarero



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F, spoilers for entire game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abarero/pseuds/Abarero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When hearts and minds come together, they sometimes change each other. It's like a spell of sorts—if one side is transformed, the other is, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenoglossy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenoglossy/gifts).



> Thank you so so much for allowing me the great pleasure of tackling this prompt. As you can probably tell, it's been something I've always wanted to explore in depth. I hope you truly enjoy!

It is night in Plegia and the darkness wraps around them like a cloak.

 

Hurried footsteps fall with as little sound as they can, each corner taken just a smidgen sharper than the last as they wind through the city's barren streets. The man tugs the girl closer, his cape swirling around her and enveloping her in its darkness. She wisely remains silent.

 

Four more streets they cross, until the looming shadow of a monstrous beast is cast onto their path. They've almost arrived.

 

The castle walls seem taller than she remembers, but that was years before and she was oh so young then. Even now they seem impossibly high, reaching skyward until they meet the night sky. Somewhere in the distance a dog barks and the man comes to an abrupt stop. His eyes narrow as he scans the horizon before moving forward with purpose towards the shadows up ahead.

 

The girl knows what to expect but still lets out the slightest gasp when she sees the skeleton of the dragon up close. The shadows of the night distorting it and making it look even more ominous than usual. To her surprise, the man is so wrapped up in his preparations that he doesn't reprimand her. She knows she won't get a second chance.

 

Candles are lit. Incantations chanted. A dagger drawn.

 

Trying not to tremble, she holds out her hand as the gleaming metal pierces her fingertip and splatters her blood upon the ground. The circle ignites in flame around her.

 

“Oh great one, we are but humble children before you. Give me your aid, help me find the one who carries your heart. I too seek to birth a new world in your name, if only you give me guidance.”

 

Suddenly, her vision clouds and goes dark. Her head is filled with a dragon's scream. And she quietly begs whatever gods that can hear her to let her live.

 

“Your vessel is ready. Please, let this unworthy host hold your voice but for one dire question. Does she still live to fulfill your plan?”

 

And out of her mouth, Tharja hears a voice that is not her own speak.

 

“ _The future returns to birth a new past. The exalt falls. The child returns home. The prince slaughtered at the table. So shall the world fall. So shall I be reborn.”_

 

* * *

 

 

A large pile of books slams onto the table, and before he can look up, Libra already knows who is there.

 

“Look- I need you to tell me all about any prophecies you and your priest buddies might know about, okay?”

 

Libra sets down his tea and looks up at his unlikely friend.

 

“I would think you would be more equipped to deal in divination, Tharja.”

 

She exhales in exasperation and taps insistently on the top book.

 

“Ever since I woke up, I've gone through everything I have that could be remotely related. I even snuck into Robin's room and raided her library!”

 

“It vexes me that I'm more alarmed by your lack of knowledge on the subject than your continued invasion of our tactician's privacy.”

 

She levels him a glare, and sweeps her cloak out of her way so she can settle on the table. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that part only because I have more pressing matters to attend to. Now be helpful or ask your gods for answers or whatever it is you holy weirdos do.”

 

“There are many words in our scriptures that can be viewed as prophecy, Tharja. Specifics may be in order before any intercession to deities is done. _If_ you want me to be helpful, that is.”

 

Golden bangles on her wrists clatter together as she crosses her arms. “The details are personal.”

 

Libra takes another drink. “Ah. Then it appears my assistance will not be needed after all?”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“And you wouldn't be the first to do so.”

 

Before he can take another drink, he finds the cup yanked from his hands and piercing eyes staring right into his own.

 

“You breathe a word of this and even your gods won't be able to put your pieces back to together. Got that?”

 

He tugs his tea cup back out of her hands and smiles. “What is your confession, child?”

 

It takes all her strength not to slap the smile off his face.

 

* * *

 

“Hmm, well you are in quite an interesting situation indeed. Now, are you certain that the prophecy speaks of Robin?”

 

“It would...explain some matters.” Tharja coughs and Libra is certain her cheeks turn a darker pink.

 

“Pardon? I don't quite follow.”

 

“A spell cast of that caliber...especially something that is intended to open the soul of one to be a vessel for another...it can have...well, side effects.” She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and her eyes dart off towards another tent.

 

“I was just a child at the time, but so few were as skilled as I was at channeling. Every time I've done it since, there's been...residue. Emotions that aren't mine. Feelings attached to people I barely know.”

 

“And so you believe that a spell you partook in when you were but a child has somehow caused these...side-effects?”

 

“It's the only answer!” She stands abruptly and the books topple to the ground. “I was content the way I was. Darkness, death, spells and solitude. I had no desire to change that.”

 

Libra lifts up a book that has opened itself to a disemboweling curse and gently closes it.

 

“But yet you have.”

 

Tharja sighs and something in her expression shifts. For the first time since he met her, Libra detects a note of fear.

 

“You've admitted that your concerns have led you to do what you can to protect Robin. You've stayed up countless nights watching her sleep because you couldn't shake a bad feeling that night. You've made charms and talismans and secretly stitched them to her clothes or inscribed them in her tomes. Do I think these might be because there's some truth to that prophecy? Perhaps. The gods work in the most mysterious ways. But if you want this to be something else, Tharja, then that matter lies solely in your hands.”

 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I've probably already scared her off. I've been a real creep, you know? And she wasn't too happy with my pathetic attempt to be normal either...”

 

Libra stands and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Be honest with her. Be _yourself_ , Tharja. It might be the only way at this point.”

 

Tharja briefly pats his hand before pushing her way past him and leaving the tent.

 

“I hate it when you're right.”

 

* * *

 

Robin hears her almost immediately this time. And strangely, she feels relieved.

 

“ _I'm glad Tharja's acting like her old self again_.” She begins to turn towards her, but halts. “ _A-although... I feel... Urk! Ch-chills up my spine... G-goose bumps... C-can't stop sh-sh-shivers..._ ”

 

Tharja drops all pretense of 'hiding' and rushes forward instantly on seeing Robin double-forward and begin to tremble.

 

“Robin?...You all right?” She hesitantly places a hand on her shoulder and is shocked to feel how violently she's shivering. “Robin, you're shaking like a leaf!”

 

Tharja moves in front of her, her body moving before she can think. Something is wrong with Robin. All the thoughts of her own personal feelings disappear.

 

“And your forehead's on fire! Okay, Tharja, think. We need cold water and a spell to bring down the fever...”

 

Robin's eyes glaze over and she falls forward. Tharja barely manages to catch her before she can hit the ground. She shakes her but she gets no response. “Robin? Robin?”

 

Her mind reels. Did someone curse her? Is she sick? Why hasn't anyone noticed before now?

 

She almost calls for help, but stops herself.

 

“They'll blame me,” she murmurs. And before she can decide against it, she lifts Robin up and heads for her tent.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Nnnrgh...”

 

Robin's eyes flutter open and to her surprise, she's laying in her own bed.

 

“Hello,” Tharja says with relief in her tone. She hopes she doesn't come off too eager, but it's been nearly an hour and she's run herself ragged setting up counter-curses and sneaking medicines from the supply tent without the others noticing.

 

“Huh? Wh-what happened? Why am I lying here?”

 

Tharja gently touches Robin's shoulder, easing her back down.

 

“You lost consciousness and collapsed. It was because of the fever.”

 

Robin blinks as she takes that in.

 

“Yes, I-I've been feeling unwell for a while.” She gives Tharja a weak smile. “Probably been working too hard.”

 

Letting go a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Tharja awkwardly chuckles. “I thought you might accuse me of putting a curse on you...”

 

“I'd never assume that!” Robin cuts her off as she sits up. A wet compress from her forehead drops in her lap. “What kind of monster would curse their friend...”

 

“ ...Oh. Right. That would be crazy!”

 

Suddenly the air in the room becomes rather thin. Robin knows why and feels terrible for it. She picks up the compress and holds it out to her.

 

“...Anyway, thank you so much for taking care of me.”

 

Refusing to meet her eyes, Tharja takes it from her and submerges it into the nearby bowl. She wrings it out and hands it back. “Didn't you once say you wouldn't want me taking care of you?”

 

“Clearly, I was mistaken.”

 

“You're just saying that because I helped you out.”

 

“No, it's true!” Robin shakes her head and suddenly feels her vision start to blur again. “In fact, I wonder if you wouldn't mind...staying...”

 

She yawns. “Just...just for a while...”

 

Tharja picks up the sheets and drapes them back over her.

 

“Aw, how sweet. She's sleeping. Sleeping and...” She chuckles darkly. “...helpless.”

 

Her hand is half-way to Robin's hair before she stops herself. Her heart burns in shame.

 

“...I'll go get an actual healer for you,” she says absently and excuses herself from the tent.

 

* * *

 

The Ylisstol castle hallways are bustling with life now that they have ended the war with Plegia. Most of it is servants bustling to and fro, waiting on their newly arrived guests in the form of the entire ranks of the Shepherds. Chrom had insisted and even the most aloof amongst them found that under the circumstances they couldn't decline his offer.

 

Tharja had still managed to keep mostly to herself, only appearing outside Robin's room from time to time or lurking in the shadows of the castle's library. Most often, the most they would see of her would be her cloak and hair swishing as she turned and walked away.

 

And so, Chrom's rather surprised when he finds her dozing against Robin's door completely unaware.

 

“Tharja?”

 

She starts awake and flickers her eyes up to him. “...I'm sorry. I'll be leaving...”

 

Chrom reaches out a hand to stop her. “Please. We need to talk.”

 

Tharja reluctantly stays and he knows it's only because his position that she does so.

 

“Sire?”

 

“Look. I know there's been some rumors since Robin fell sick, but she insists that you weren't at fault. I couldn't call myself her friend if I didn't trust her word, and so, I too do not think you did anything to cause it. She's just exhausted from all we've been through. And from what my most skilled healers have told me, it was your quick spell work that may have saved her the worst of it.”

 

Tharja shifts, uncertain what to say.

 

“...then I'm glad I was able to help. I'll be going now if that is all.”

She turns once again to go, but he halts her.

 

“Tharja.” He waits until she turns back. “She's been asking for you. She would like to thank you in person.”

 

She can't hide the surprise in her expression.

 

“I'm not asking you as the prince, Tharja. But as her friend. Please, go talk to her.”

 

Tharja looks up at Chrom. “Robin's lucky to have such a kindhearted friend. I suppose, given the personal request, I have no choice but to oblige.”

 

Chrom smiles, clapping a hand to her shoulder. “Thank you. I know you probably do not hear it often, but you can be just as kind when you want to, Tharja. Don't forget that.”

 

He turns to leave before she can counter and she's left wondering what she's done to earn such a reputation. Her mind flickers through the encounters she's had with the other Shepherds, the favors she's done trying to keep her mind off her worry.

 

She smiles. “Looks like a few idiots can't keep their mouths shut.”

 

* * *

 

To say Robin's room is filled with books would be a vast understatement. All the chairs, two of the small dressers, and part of the bed itself are covered in them. Although she hadn't felt up to much, her penchant for reading had not diminished in the least.

 

Tharja, after actually knocking first, finds her fast asleep with two books clutched open in her hand. She can't help but chuckle at the sight.

 

Quietly she ventures closer to the bed and gently pries them from her grasp. The first, Robin's own notebook, scrawled in diagrams and figures and charts that overflow from pages and clutter up the edges. The second, to Tharja's surprise, is an older tome detailing the history of magic in correlation to memory. She scans the page it was opened to and almost jumps when Robin suddenly speaks.

 

“I didn't mean to borrow it without asking, but I haven't seen you lately so I managed to convince Gaius to see if you had a book on the topic.”

 

She blinks, slowly taking in the disheveled but still somehow radiant woman before her. Her heartbeat thrums in her ears and she can feel the heat in her cheeks. Apparently, hexing herself to restrict inappropriate thoughts still cannot fully dampen the effect she has on her.

 

“...I...It's fine. I'm certain you are already aware I've borrowed your belongings more than once for far less innocent means, so you are more than welcome to it.”

 

Robin sighs, bringing herself to sit upright. She pats the space unoccupied by books on the bed next to herself. “Tharja, I really want to just sit and talk with you. No weird looming or hiding or standing in the shadows. And none of that forced personality thing either. Just two friends having a talk. Is that all right?”

 

Not trusting her voice, Tharja nods. She settles a safe distance away and places her hands firmly in her own lap.

 

“I should apologize for my behavior.”

 

Robin shakes her head. “If you weren't right there when I fell ill, who knows how long I would have laid there before someone found me?”

 

“I understand, but before that...what I did was inexcusable.”

 

When Robin doesn't say anything, Tharja bravely presses on.

 

“I have my theories, but those aside I shouldn't do that sort of thing just because I feel some spark ignited in my heart whenever you are near me. You...you had to send the Prince to convince me to even show my face to you again.”

 

Robin gently reaches a hand over and places it on her arm. “Tharja, thank you. For taking care of me, for apologizing. Sure I was weirded out at first, but we'd just met then and I really didn't know you. Even now, I feel like...well, I don't know all that much about you. I don't want you to pretend or not be yourself, but I do want to know what makes you you. Every time I think about you, I just keep coming up with more questions and no answers. So...can we start there? See where that goes?”

 

If Tharja didn't already suspect that she was completely enamored with Robin, this was the nail in the coffin. No one had really ever _wanted_ to understand her before.

 

But here was Robin, bright eyed and with such a big heart, that she did. Tharja felt her shoulders relax as she let her countless guards down.

 

“Where would you like to begin?”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“What does a Dark Mage wear to a wedding?”

 

Libra laughs, a sound Tharja is finding is a more common occurrence as of late.

 

“I didn't take you to be the fashion-conscious type, Tharja.”

 

She frowns. “Robin's gotten all doted on by the best of the best since she's part of the wedding party. I'm still just surprised they managed to get in her a dress, but I can't just wear whatever if she's going to be looking like a gift from the gods.”

 

Libra shakes his head. “As I've said before and I'll say again, Robin will be happy as long as you are, Tharja. She's had a stern talking with me over making sure you attend, so I'm certain that's mainly her priority.”

 

Tharja huffs and plops down in the nearest chair. “Weddings are just so...formal. And...white.”

 

“I do believe they allow people wearing darker colors in, if that's your concern.”

 

She smacks his arm. “For a man of the cloth you can be such a demon.”

 

“Thankfully they have yet to require vows of humorless-ness in the priesthood.”

 

Tharja stands again and goes to rummage through her closet. It's still so strange to her, living in Ylisstol castle. Her fingers touch upon something near the back and she hmms to herself in thought.

 

“Is this too much? I feel like its at least an improvement from my usual.”

 

She pulls out the dress, made of the richest purples and adored with gold trim.

 

“Well I'm certain it'll still not be as showy as whatever Virion comes up with. If you feel it works, then it should suit you fine.”

 

Tharja holds the dress up to herself and frowns.

 

“You won't make Robin look bad, Tharja.”

 

She opens her mouth, then closes it. “I'm beginning to think in prodding into your memories I somehow gave you the ability to read my mind. Unfortunately, the only way to undo that would be for one of the people involved to die.”

 

“I will be glad to preside at your funeral then.”

 

Tharja throws the dress at his face.

 

* * *

 

“Wow Tharja, I love your outfit!”

 

She's received a surprising amount of compliments on her outfit, but this is the only one that really counts. She tries not to look too pleased when she turns around.

 

“Heh I see you finally show yourself, Robin!”

 

She tosses a small spell with the flourish of a wrist and Robin deftly catches it. It solidifies into an elegant white rose.

 

“And you mastered that spell! I still haven't gotten it quite right despite all the tips you gave me. Come on, if we hurry we can still do it at the official proclamation like I wanted to.”

 

Robin grabs Tharja by the hand and begins to run down the hallway with her trailing behind.

 

Dodging wedding guests and servants alike, Robin expertly directs them through the best path. Ever the tactician, even now. Trying to keep her thoughts off the warmth of Robin's hand in hers, Tharja instead tries to coach her at the last minute on the spell. It had been Robin's big surprise for Chrom and Tharja had been working with her on it for the weeks leading up to the big day.

 

“You can do the petals, right?”

 

“I...I should.” Robin says, almost breathless from the run. “It's the stem that keeps tripping me up.”

 

“Then we'll just have to use that and....somehow replicate it at the same time.” Tharja gives her hand a squeeze. “That pretty head of yours have any good ideas?”

 

Although Tharja has been trying to completely tone her obsessive feelings down, every now and again, little things would just slip out. Normally Robin would just shrug it off, but for some reason today- she flushes pink. Tharja starts to withdraw her hand. Clearly she's just deluded as always.

 

But Robin takes it back with force, that glint in her eyes she always gets when she has one of her crazy tactician ideas.

 

“I know just the thing. Tharja, you're the best!”

 

She pecks a quick kiss to her cheek in excitement before running ahead screaming down the hall. “Stall the Prince, I have a surprise for him!”

 

Tharja staggers to a halt. She shakes her head sharply.

 

“ _It's just a normal friend thing. That's all it is, calm down. I've got to stop trying to pretend there's something there that isn't. Just relax and be yourself.”_

 

“Tharja, come on! I can't do this without you!”

 

She dramatically draws her cape-like sleeves up around her and when she parts her hands, the crowd in her way also parts.

 

“Ufufufufu let's make this an event to remember.”

 

* * *

 

The groom, bride and the villagers gathered in the square were all pleasantly surprised by Robin and Tharja's trick. Robin had Tharja throw up the the roses which she then replicated into hundreds. At the banquet and ball afterward it was all everyone could talk about.

 

“This is the eighth drink I've gotten.” Robin murmurs with a slight hiccup in the middle. “I swear, the moment I finish one- someone else has given me another.”

 

Tharja chuckles. “I think seeing you in something other than your standard attire has alerted every eligible bachelor in the halidom.”

 

Robin glances down at her dress. It was light blue and was slightly shorter in the front, cascading in the back in a slight train. She'd been tugging at her corset ties most of the evening, and Tharja honestly wondered if this was the first time Robin had ever been in such attire.

 

Frowning, she gestures at Tharja. “I don't really see what the big deal is. I mean, like I could pull something like that off. I'd probably get tangled in that cape....sleeve...cape thing. That's way more impressive.”

 

She tugs slightly at the mass of purple fabric as if inspecting it closer might reveal it's secrets.

 

Tharja shrugs. “I suppose I'm just used to it. Dark Mage robes tend to come in a one 'giant dramatic sleeves' fit all size. Are you sure you're all right?”

 

Robin sways. “Yeah, totally fine.” She sways into Tharja and giggles. “You're really soft.”

 

Face going scarlet, Tharja quickly yanks the drink from Robin's hand and swaps it with her glass of water. “Perhaps you should go out on the balcony and get some fresh air.”

 

She blinks at the new glass in her hand then locks her arm with Tharja's. “Okay! But you're coming with me.”

 

Tharja, realizing that this is simultaneously the best and worst turn of events, curses inwardly. As Robin leads them through the crowd and out the doors, Tharja shoots Libra a look in hopes he'll come to her aide. He turns away at just the wrong second.

 

The air outside is crisp and cool, and Robin presses closer as the gust of wind passes through. Tharja, knowing she'll regret it later, gives in.

 

“Oho where are you taking me you naughty girl? A secluded balcony? Heh heh heh. Like a moth to a flame, you cannot resist can you?”

 

Robin throws the rest of her drink back as if she is oblivious to the fact that it's no longer anything but water. She sets the glass on the ledge and burrows closer into the nook of Tharja's arm.

 

“Ugh put your sleeve-cape around me, I'm freezing.”

 

Hand trembling, Tharja slowly wraps her arm around her, her fingers coming to rest right at the base of her corset. Unsure what to say, she throws back the drink. It's strong with alcohol and it rushes to her head immediately. She tries to settle the glass on the ledge but it topples over and disappears into the bushes below. Robin's quiet voice finally breaks the silence.

 

“So...”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do you remember when we first met?”

 

“I have the exact moment burned in my memories for eternity.”

 

Robin laughs, but it drops off awkwardly. Tharja tugs her slightly closer.

 

“No like...when you said that our fates were entwined. Is that...is that true?”

 

Caught off guard by the question, Tharja doesn't think before offering a reply.

 

“Nothing is more intimate than how we are entwined. For I was voice to the prophecy that speaks of you. My blood was used to call down the Fell Dragon Grima himself so I could receive his words. _The future returns to birth a new past. The exalt falls. The marked child returns..._ ”

 

Robin's eyes widen she grasps her head. “No! Stop!”

 

Tharja's blood runs cold at her plea, all the pieces settling into place in her mind.

 

“Robin? Robin can you hear me?” She shakes her gently. “Robin, please!”

 

“...Tharja?...So-sorry, I'm not sure what came over me.”

 

Hastily, Tharja yanks off her sleeves and wraps the caplet around Robin as she urges her to sit.

 

“Robin...I know this is sudden, but do you remember what day it was that you first fell sick? Anything at all that happened before then?”

 

She blinks. “Not really. I'd just heard from a messenger that the new leader of Plegia had taken the throne. Right after that is when I spoke to you.”

 

Tharja presses a hand to Robin's forehead. “Okay. Just stay calm. You don't have a fever this time, but let me know immediately if you feel sick at all.”

 

“Tharja...what's going on?”

 

“I'm not sure. But I...I think that prophecy is coming true. I hadn't really thought about it, but...Robin, the exalt has fallen. That stranger- Marth was it?- you said you were warned about it but they said they couldn't prevent it.”

 

“Yes but...what does that have to do with me?”

 

“You told me once you don't know anything of your past. I'm afraid there's a reason for that. The man that had me perform that ceremony was looking for a lost daughter who was similar in age to me. The child in that prophecy is her.”

 

“So, you think that's me?”

 

Tharja sits down beside her and draws her close.

 

“Maybe. Maybe I'm just panicking over nothing. I don't know. But...I won't let them have you. I will kill anyone who tries to harm you, Robin. Anyone.”

 

Robin gently rests her head against Tharja's shoulder, her voice suddenly very withdrawn.

 

“I know...I know that in curses, hexes, heavy magic...there's often some emotional repercussions. You channel a dead person and then you end up with residue, you curse someone you hate and you could end up with them liking you. But I never thought...I never realized that's why you felt the way you did, Tharja.”

 

“I could be wrong. But it certainly explains why I was drawn to you immediately.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Tharja shifts until her cheek rests against the top of Robin's head. She laughs nervously.

 

“Heh. I wish it could be something normal. You know- red string of fate or something. But no...of course, in my case it's a prophecy about the end of the world.”

 

Robin begins to fidget under the caplet.

 

“Is there...could we sever it?”

 

Tharja freezes. It's as if her heart has stopped. She pulls away and shakily gets to her feet.

 

“...If that's what you'd like.”

 

“Tharja...”

 

Her throat feels tight, and for the first time in a long time, she feels the hint of tears begin to burn at the corners of her eyes.

 

“Robin, I would do whatever you asked of me. I...I can even sever it tonight, if that's what you wish.”

 

Robin scrambles to her feet, the caplet falling aside.

 

“No...Tharja, listen to me I...”

 

“Goodbye Robin. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused.”

 

Tharja leaves before she can hear anymore. And not caring what the others might think, Robin runs after her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tharja's outfit is her dress from Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE sans the veil piece.


	3. Chapter 3

Robin can hear her friends and comrades yelling after her. Concerned voices calling out. But she doesn't stop, her feet carrying her as fast they can. Her head is swimming and she pauses to catch her breath but one second before continuing down the castle hallways. She comes to an abrupt halt when she rounds a corner and finds a dead-end; a lone auxiliary room empty aside from a shadowy figure hunched over against the wall.

 

“St-stay back or I'll curse you into the next century!”

 

Tharja's voice cracks and Robin almost turns back. But she can't. This is too important.

 

“As long as you let me explain, you can curse me however you'd like.”

 

The figure tenses.

 

“R-Robin, I...”

 

She darts in, her lighting speed always there when she needs it most. And before Tharja can move, Robin wraps her in hug.

 

“Please. Tharja. Please let me explain.”

 

She hears a soft gasp near her ear and feels her muscles slowly begin to relax. Tharja hangs her head, hoping her hair will cover her face. Her nod is so slight Robin almost doesn't see it in the dimly lit room.

 

“As you probably know...I've been trying to unlock what's in my head. Why did I only suddenly forget everything? Why could I remember Chrom? Nothing made sense. And then there's this.”

 

She pulls off the glove on her right hand and holds it up between them.

 

“I always thought it was strange- an old tattoo? But why this symbol? And my clothes too...all of it led back to Plegia. I've researched so much. I know a lot of them are obsessed with resurrecting the Fell Dragon. I suspect perhaps my parents may have been part of that. But, I also found something else.”

 

She reaches her hand out and gently places it on Tharja's shoulder. Both of them shiver at the contrast of warm and cool skin.

 

“I have all of you. Chrom, Lissa...even good old Frederick. All of you guys. So what if my past is something better left dead? I know that no matter what happens, no matter who I was, that my friends will be there for me. There's... _something_ that connects us. Something stronger than fate. That's why I feel I can sever this one tie with you, Tharja. Because I know there's a better one there! Because I'd rather know that I...I care about you because that's my choice to, not because some destiny or curse _makes_ me. Wouldn't you rather it be that way to?”

 

Silently Tharja slumps forward until her head rests against Robin's shoulder, her hands gently grasping at her sides.

 

“I don't want to lose you.”

 

“You won't.”

 

Tharja presses closer and her words are almost swallowed up by the tiny space between them.

 

“You promise?”

 

“Of course. I became your friend for no reason except that I like you. But if there's a dangerous prophecy, then it's probably best that we do what we can to distance ourselves from it.”

 

“...Okay.”

 

Gently, she pulls herself free from Robin's arms. “Do you know how to do the spell?”

 

Robin nods. “Is it the same as severing a hex?”

 

“Yes. Basic spell. There's but one difference. When the aura solidifies, there will be one thread that's clearly longer than the rest. I've...got a lot of hexes that are going to be visible, but this one should be the oldest and therefore longest strand.”

 

Chanting the incantation, Robin holds her hand over Tharja's forehead and gives a sharp pull outward. She gasps. Hovering in the air between them is a myriad of threads, so many Robin knows it's not possible for her to clearly count them all.

 

Tharja sighs. “It's messy business dabbling in the dark arts. Bits and pieces of my self end up laced inside my work.”

 

“This is...wow, I had no idea. I guess it's not common for a Dark Mage to sever one specific curse.”

 

“There's an old proverb in Plegia about it. They say that's why Dark Mages never quite seem all there, because they aren't. They've left bits of their soul in every hex or curse they've cast. You cannot cast a successful curse without giving something in return.”

 

Almost forgetting what she's doing in her wonder, Robin shakes her head and tries to concentrate on the colors before her. Strung throughout the middle is a long dark purple strand that is much longer than the rest.

 

“Okay, I found it. But normally you just slice it in half...and this one is tangled in with all the rest.”

 

Tharja reaches out a hand and grasps Robin's, directing it upward until it touches the beginning of the strand. “Pull.”

 

She gives it a gentle tug and Tharja winces. Robin stops immediately. “Wait, you didn't say it would hurt you! Am I doing something wrong?”

 

“No. It's just...imbedded deeper than most, so...it will leave some damage on the way out.”

 

Robin drops her hand. “I can't.”

 

“Robin, please.”

 

“I don't want to hurt you!”

 

“If it's for your sake, I don't mind. You are the only person I would ever trust this to, okay? I can't make myself normal for you but I can at least do everything I can to make sure every tiny bit of this prophecy is obliterated. As always, you know a weak point when you see one. And you're right. As it is, the original caster of this spell could find a way to use it against me. Please.”

 

Robin nods, slowly reaching forward with her other hand. She takes Tharja's hand and gives it a squeeze.

 

“You're a very brave and kind person, Tharja. I hope you know that.”

 

Tharja chuckles. “I suppose there's a first time for everything.”

 

Interlocking her fingers with Tharja's, Robin gives her a smile. “I'll be as quick as I can. Then I'll make sure you get up to your room okay.”

 

“Sounds like I should let you sever my hexes more often.”

 

Robin laughs. “Or you could just ask. That always works too.”

 

They both go silent for a moment until Tharja gives Robin a nod to urge her on.

 

She tugs the strand and like the roots of a plant it snags and uproots as it drags throughout the rest. Tharja bites her lip so she doesn't cry out, but the pain feels like her veins are on ice-cold fire. When it finally breaks free, Robin quickly slices it with her finger. The spell flickers before it goes dark and Tharja quietly slumps to the floor.

 

Robin yells as loud as she can in hopes that someone, anyone, can hear her.

 

* * *

 

Tharja wakes up, groggy and sore, as promised in her own bed. To her surprise, she finds she's not alone. Robin has fallen asleep seated at her bedside, her hand stretched out to rest atop one of Tharja's hands.

 

Absently, Tharja reaches over and brushes the hair off Robin's face.

 

“ _It's strange. I feel, if anything, removing that curse has strengthened my feelings. Before I just...obsessed. Blindly. Possessively. But now...”_

 

She tucks a wisp of hair behind Robin's ear.

 

“ _Now it's as if a great warmth has taken that place.”_

 

Robin stirs and Tharja quickly withdraws her hand. She yawns before smiling up at her.

 

“Hey, glad to see you're awake.”

 

Nervously, Tharja glances away. “I'm sorry I had to put you through that. It was reckless of me to not deal with this before now...but I...I was afraid. For once in my life, I had been given purpose. I didn't want to lose that.”

 

“Tharja...”

 

“There's one problem still left though...”

 

Robin blinks. “What?”

 

Tharja turns slightly. “It appears I'm still rather fond of you. First I stalk you and now I can't even stop loving you. You must be disgusted.”

 

She shakes her head vehemently. “No, Tharja. Why would I be?”

 

Tharja gestures to herself. “No one wants some freak like me in love with them.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You don't need to comfort me, Robin...”

 

Robin gets to her feet and she reaches down and takes Tharja's hand again into her own. “Tharja, I'm not. I...I did a lot of thinking last night. Even Chrom had to come in and tell me to get some rest because I was so worried about you I couldn't sleep. And I know it's terribly selfish of me, but... I think part of the reason I wanted to sever that curse was to see if that was the only reason you felt the way you did. Because the thought of that...I couldn't bear it.”

 

“Robin...”

 

She looks down, her face obscured by her bangs.

 

“So, I guess what I'm trying to say is...Tharja, I do really want you to like me. Because I like you. A-A lot. I know we started out on kind of an awkward ground, but the more I've gotten to know you -the _real_ you beneath all the fronts you try to put up- the more I realized that perhaps it wasn't so bad that you loved me. Because...because I felt the same way for you.”

 

Tentatively, Tharja starts to sit up until she is but a few inches away from Robin, her free hand reaching up and gently pressing against her cheek.

 

“Really?”

 

She nods. “Really.” Robin looks up, her eyes brimming with emotion. “I love you, Tharja. Please, stay with me?”

 

Tharja leans her forehead against Robin's. “Of course! I-If you dare try to run or die on me, I'll hunt you down and bring you right back, okay?”

 

Robin brushes her nose against Tharja's and gives her hand a squeeze. “Okay. I'll hold you to it!”

 

Awkwardly, they both move forward. Noses bumping and nervous laughs before they finally manage to press their lips together in a kiss. It's their first of many.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Two years seem to pass in a blink of an eye- friends getting married, Chrom's daughter being born. But as with all good things, it wasn't to last. Another war draws itself to their shores and Chrom sets out with a party to Plegia in hopes to gather aid. As the prophecy foretold, the child finally returns home.

  
  


Tharja's divination readings have become increasingly worrisome over the last month, but Robin is still not prepared for the shock Validar and his hierophant have waiting for them. Unable to sleep that night, Robin steps away from camp and unknowingly, steps out of the range of Tharja's protections. It's a night of revelations, both good and bad.

  
  


It's not until many hours past dawn before scouts, mages, and Robin all agree that they are a safe distance away from Validar. They set up a quick camp, many retreating to their tents the moment they are standing.

  
  


Robin checks in with Chrom, assuring that arrangements have been made to secure Lucina a proper tent. Like any good father, he admits he's given up his bed to wife and daughter and relegated himself to the chair. Knowing they surely have much to talk about, and being quite exhausted herself, Robin wishes him luck and heads back towards her tent.

  
  


“Aha, so you're the lucky one!” Henry, the odd Plegian mage who has joined them, approaches her with a smile.

  
  


“Sorry?”

  
  


He pats her several times on the shoulder. “Yep. Heard all about it. Got yourself a real nasty family tree. Sounds like it could use some trimming. Or uprooting. Anyways, us Plegian weirdos got to stick together. Plus your girlfriend kind of threatened to pull my intestines out through my nose if I didn't help out. Which would be really cool to see. You know, if it wasn't happening to me. Kind of ruins the view.”

  
  


Robin sighs. “Please don't let Tharja bother you, she means well.”

  
  


Henry shrugs. “No bothering here. Find it adorable actually. Not every day you find a girl who'd disembowel someone for you.”

  
  


“Well, that's a first. Usually people find her...well, less than charming.”

  
  


A familiar arm snakes around her hips and Robin can feel Tharja's lips pressing into her hair.

  
  


“Not everyone can appreciate my charms.”

  
  


“Tharja, what have you gotten me into this time?” Robin asks.

  
  


“Damage control. Looks like that old prophecy is back. Which means you, and now Chrom are on high-alert mage watch. The others are doing the preliminary work.”

  
  


“And us lucky ducks get to do the fun part!” Henry pipes up.

  
  


“Heh heh heh. Anyone tries to sneak anything over the boundaries of our camp...”

  
  


“And they'll get blown to itty bitty pieces! It'll be like Risen confetti!” Henry laughs.

  
  


“Henry's also going to hang around Chrom and curse anything that looks like it might hurt him. As always, yours truly will be handling _you_ personally.”

  
  


Robin laughs, the weight of all that's just happened easing a little. “Thank you, Henry. Once I'm a little better rested, I'd like to talk strategy with you.”

  
  


He gives a salute as he starts off towards Chrom's tent. “Sure thing! Have sweet dreams of screaming things!”

  
  


Tharja rubs a hand along Robin's arm. “Heh. Can we keep him?”

  
  


She leans over and rests her head on Tharja's shoulder. “I blame you for the fact I don't find him _that_ weird.”

  
  


Tharja cackles and for a moment, Robin's worries are a world away.

  
  


“I'm no healer, but I think you could probably use a _good_ night's sleep.”

  
  


“Gods yes.”

  
  


She reaches down and takes Robin's hand. “Then let's get you to bed and I'll brew up some nice dreams for you.”

  
  


They walk slowly across the camp, eyes flickering to Miriel and Ricken as they finalize the spells around the camp borders. Robin's always had a penchant for magic, but she's never seen it put to such use before. Tharja might call things like this hexes or curses, but oddly enough- their intents are generally protective rather than harmful. Like Tharja herself, Robin was learning that Dark Magic was not always as dark as the name implied.

  
  


Like many others, they had opted in favor of pitching one tent and sharing rather than spending more sleep-deprived time pitching a second tent. It had taken two years, but finally Tharja could be with Robin without anyone in the party questioning it. She supposed she had Libra's calm explanations and assurances to thank for that, although Chrom was surprisingly helpful as well. While she wouldn't voice it aloud, it was part of the reason she insisted on Henry's help in protecting the prince. If it wasn't for his kindness, Tharja knew she'd be a long forgotten bloodstain in the desert sands. It gave her all the more reason to defy the fate that the prophecy had laid out.

  
  


“Robin?” Tharja said quietly as they entered the tent.

  
  


“Hmm?”

  
  


“I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes to keep you and Chrom safe. Although I was just a child that was roped into it, I feel indirectly responsible for this prophecy playing out.”

  
  


“Tharja, don't. Your parents had been threatened and pressured and you had no idea that what you'd be channeling was the Fell Dragon itself.”

  
  


She rubbed her arms. “Still. It makes me feel unclean somehow.”

  
  


Robin hangs her head. “Well if you are, then it looks like I am too. Validar's daughter? Meant to be the vessel for the Fell Dragon? I feel...dirty. Like I just want to scream and cry and somehow change my history so I won't be _his_ daughter.”

  
  


“Robin...” She reaches out and pulls her against her chest, her head coming to rest right over her heart. Despite everything that has happened that night, she's not been given even a moment to take this in. Robin feels it all rush down on her at once, tears turning to sobs as she clings to the front of Tharja's cloak. Knowing there's nothing she can say or do to fix this, Tharja does the one thing she can. She holds her tighter, her hands rubbing soothing circles on her back and arms, and gently presses kisses to the top of Robin's head.

  
  


When Robin finally calms herself down, she sniffles and looks up at her. “I'm sorry. I must be such a mess right now and I got it all over your cloak...”

  
  


Tharja pulls her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “I don't mind. I just want you to feel better and I think finding out that your dad is trying to use you to end the world kind of warrants a breakdown or two.”

  
  


Robin laughs at that. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  
  


“But your past is just that...past. Gone, done, and if I have any say about it- dead and buried. You are you, Robin. The woman I adore and love. And no one is going to take that from me.”

  
  


Robin lets go a moment to wipe her face on her sleeve. “Thanks. I guess I'm just kind of in shock still.”

  
  


“Then let's get you to bed and rested. You're bad enough about not sleeping right when a tactical matter is eating at you, so I'm not going to let you sit up and mull this around.” Tharja turns to her cramped corner filled with her belongings and starts to pull ingredients out. “So, tell me what an ideal dream for you would be and we'll cook it up.”

  
  


Unclasping her coat, Robin throws it aside and begins to pull off her boots. She tries to think of anything, what dreams she's had recently that she's enjoyed most and the like. Her mind recalls one rather vivid one and she turns bright pink. Tharja and her had been taking their relationship slow, not wanting to rush into things, but that definitely hadn't stopped Robin's mind from speculating where things could go next.

  
  


“Robin, got something? This is almost ready.”

  
  


Biting her lip nervously, Robin stands and slowly walks over to where Tharja is hunched over her potion. Gently, she tugs at Tharja's cloak.

  
  


“Tharja...I know that I'm emotional, so I don't want to do something in the heat of the moment. But I...I just want to be close to you.”

  
  


She turns, somewhat confused as to the meaning of Robin's words until she notices the flush of pink spread across Robin's cheeks. “ _Oh_.”

  
  


Robin shakes her head. “Not...not _that._ Not tonight at least. But I want to...” She hesitantly presses her hand over Tharja's chest. “...be _close_.”

  
  


Tharja's entire face goes scarlet. Though they've slept together in the same bed many times before, they'd always been rather...clad. Robin nervously pinches the thin fabric that covers the majority of Tharja's body and gives a slight tug. Her eyes look up to her as if asking once more and all she can manage in return is a slight nod.

  
  


“Are you sure? I don't want to pressure you.”

  
  


“I just don't want to disappoint you.”

  
  


Robin reaches up and gently cups her face. “You could never. It's just....it's a hot night but I want to be next to you. I...want to feel your heart next to mine. I want to dream about a future where we're happy and peaceful and have no worries and just...just lose myself in you.”

  
  


She reaches up and presses her hand atop Robin's. “Heh. You certainly know how to steal someone's heart. For now, I can make that dream for you. But tomorrow, I hope you are prepared for me to do anything and everything in my power to make it a reality.”

  
  


“Okay!”

  
  


Tharja turns and quickly adds various things into the brew, before pouring it into a glass and handing it to Robin. “I can't guarantee it'll work perfectly, but it'll at least keep other thoughts out.”

  
  


“You're always too hard on yourself, Tharja.” She drinks it down and it tastes just like her favorite cider. “Well if the taste is anything to judge it by, it's wonderful.”

  
  


Tharja looks relieved. “Good. I wish I could do more.”

  
  


Robin sets down the glass and nervously reaches up and unclasps Tharja's cloak. Holding it in her hands, she looks up for permission. Tharja averts her eyes as her face reddens.

  
  


“I don't think a single person amongst this entire army would ever have predicted there'd be a day you'd insist on undressing me.”

  
  


She edges closer, barely any space between them. “Well...I wouldn't be a very good tactician if I couldn't figure out how to get people out of things.”

  
  


And despite trying hard to fight it, Tharja bursts out laughing. “You...you little...”

  
  


“H-Hey don't laugh, I'm trying to make very serious calculated decisions here!”

  
  


Robin manages to maintain a serious expression for a few brief moments before she too begins to laugh. “S-Sorry. I'm just nervous...and excited and I don't know...”

  
  


“Utterly adorable,” Tharja replies, tapping her on the nose. “Well then, it looks like I'll have to leave myself in your trustworthy hands.”

  
  


She takes Robin's hand and the cloak falls, pooling at their feet. Lacing their fingers together, Tharja presses a kiss to her knuckles. She turns, lifting her hair aside with one hand as she uses the other to direct Robin to the clasps on her necklace. One by one the gold bangles join the shoes and the necklace on the floor.

  
  


Nervous, but certain in their motions, she undoes each garment clasp. One piece at a time until Tharja has nothing left but the thin black fabric stretched across her from shoulders down to toes. Robin leans against her back, her breathing heavy and thick.

  
  


“You still okay?”

  
  


It takes Tharja a moment to find her voice. It's low and husky.

  
  


“You...are making it very hard to stay nervous.”

  
  


Robin laughs nervously. “Y-Yeah? Well, I still am. So it's okay if you are too.”

  
  


“Good. B-But if anyone is going to tear down my walls, I'm glad it's you.”

  
  


Stepping back, Robin makes quick work of her pants and top before she can lose her nerve to do so. She adjusts her undergarments, but opts to keep them. “W-well I'm going to be honest. I have no idea how to get that off, so...you're going to help a girl out.”

  
  


Tharja's warm laugh makes her stomach flutter.

  
  


“Tsk tsk. What kind of tactician cannot get past such a simple barrier?” Tharja murmurs. “Come here, and I'll show you.”

  
  


Robin steps closer, and Tharja shakily takes her hand and slides it under the edge of the fabric at her shoulder. With the slightest nudge, it slides down her arm. Gently, Robin slides it down her arms until they are bare. She pauses, pressing a warm hand to Tharja's bare back, right above where her bra sits. Unlike Tharja's, Robin's hands are rough with calluses from her sword fighting and she can feel it in contrast to her smooth skin.

  
  


She knows what has probably halted her, but asks anyway. “R-Robin?”

  
  


“Is this...from magic?” She runs a fingertip along one of the fine scars.

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


Robin exhales. “Wow. It's beautiful. Like lightning.”

  
  


Tharja's voice catches. “Y-You think so?”

  
  


“Y-Yeah. My scars are all normal. Nothing like this. You must be so strong to endure a spell like this.”

  
  


She hangs her head. “Only you would think that way, Robin.”

  
  


“How'd you get it? Do you know?”

  
  


Tharja leans back into her touch. “...It's not that important.”

  
  


“Tharja?”

  
  


“That day against Gangrel..when I pushed you out of the way of his Levin Sword strike...”

  
  


Robin grows still and Tharja wonders if she's said too much. Then she feels Robin's soft kiss against the center of the scar.

  
  


“Thank you. Someday I'll return the favor.”

  
  


“You already have just by saying that.”

  
  


Tharja tugs the fabric down and lets it slide to the floor. Nervously, she turns to face Robin. Each of them relaxing into a soft smile as their eyes meet. Tentatively, Robin reaches out, fingertips finding their way from neck down to over her heart. “It's silly but...it calms me; being so close to you.”

  
  


She steps forward, nodding to Tharja. Slowly, she lifts a hand and brings it to rest over Robin's heart.

  
  


“I don't know what you see in someone like me.”

  
  


Robin steps in, erasing the space between them. “Even under all your personality and dark aura, there's still this warm beautiful heart. Maybe it just takes someone special to see that.”

  
  


Tharja looks up, her eyes meeting Robin's. “Maybe.”

  
  


Gently, Robin takes her hand and tugs her over to the bed. They curl into each other as if it was second nature. Shy hands trying to memorize every feature. To the rhythm of their united heartbeats, Robin falls into a blissful sleep. Tharja presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her as close she can.

  
  


“Goodnight, Robin. Sleep well.”

  
  


 


	5. Chapter 5

As Tharja had promised, she worked tirelessly from that day onward to find a way to alter the course of fate. Every new curve Validar and the others threw at them, she worked to counter. Henry solemnly tells her after Validar uses Robin to seize the Fire Emblem that it was only the work of strong magic that could have held him off so long. Even so, she feels defeated.

 

Surprisingly, it is Chrom and Lucina that come to her that night. They tell her of what the future says will happen, how Chrom will fall at Robin's hands. Tharja vows on her life to prevent it. Robin tells of a vision she had and together, they plan. How to try and soften the blow, how to find a way to use Validar's own damned fate against him. It takes all of Robin's tactical skills with all of Tharja's magic for them to find a way they are certain will work. Even so, it has it risks. And Robin tells Tharja that if it comes to it, someone must stop her before she harms anyone else. It breaks her heart, but she agrees.

 

But nothing prepares them for the final revelation. That Robin _is_ Grima. That her future self has come to ensure that the end of the world is brought by her hand. Even Naga can only offer them a small comfort- that Chrom will be granted the power to once again put the Fell Dragon back into slumber. But Robin, as always, sees the path the battle can take, and sees one way in which Grima can be defeated for good.

 

The night before they ascend Origin Peak, Robin knows she must tell Tharja of her plans.

 

“No...no Robin, you can't!”

 

“Tharja, listen. Naga said there's a chance I could survive!”

 

“A chance, Robin! A chance is not enough!”

 

“Naga said it is the ties I've made that will hold me here. I believe in that. I believe in that more than any fate or destiny has written for me. I believe that my love for all of you will bring me back.”

 

Tharja steps back and before Robin can even realize what she's doing, the spell hums to life. Between them appears a myriad of threads, but this time the number is clearly astronomical. And instead of them trailing off, each one has little knots, ties and bonds. Throughout the middle runs a hovering darkness. Robin knows immediately what that is and starts to reach out towards it.

 

“Don't!” Tharja says sharply. Robin looks to her. “I need to find a way to shift it. I cannot make it disappear, as much as I wish it was that easy. But if I can shift it, if I can weave the other threads stronger...”

 

Suddenly, Robin understands what she's trying to do. “...you want to make sure it's strong enough to pull me back.”

 

She doesn't answer, her eyes intensely focused on the spell.

 

“Tharja, can I attack it?”

 

“Attack? This isn't a battlefield, you can't just...”

 

Robin reaches over and grabs up her spellbook, Thoron. “I read once about another world where dark magic can be canceled out with light. I'm willing to bet this will at least get it to shift.”

 

Tharja protests, giving reason after reason why this is a terrible idea. But Robin, ever the tactician, somehow sees all the angles.

 

“If I'm both myself and Grima, if I'm both light and dark...it won't hurt me. But it will hurt it. You want to separate all the threads from that darkness so when it's erased, all the other parts don't disappear with it.”

 

Knowing she can't argue it, Tharja reluctantly accepts the idea. “Okay, but if it hurts at all I demand you stop at once.”

 

“Understood.”

 

Tharja picks up her rarest tome, a gift from Robin on their last anniversary. Imhullu, one of the legendary tomes of Dark Magic. The tome had an ominous history, but like Tharja, Robin knew that it could be kindhearted as well. She couldn't tap into its full power, but even so, it helped her minimize the damage from attacks quite well.

 

Without a word needed amongst them, they move in unison. Tharja draws the threads toward her and casts Imhullu right as Robin casts Thoron down upon the darkness amidst them. As Robin predicted, the darkness shifts to avoid the lightning strike. And as it does, Tharja's deft fingers sweep the threads aside and surrounds them with a barrier of protection.

 

The smoke clears and although the darkness tries to rejoin the threads, the barrier crackles with power repels it. Tharja closes out the spell and the image before them vanishes.

 

“I hope...I hope that holds.”

 

Robin sets her tome aside and embraces Tharja tightly. “Me too. But if I believe in anything, above all else, it's that those bonds I've tied with all of you will bring me home.”

 

* * *

 

Tharja stands at Robin's side as they quickly make their way across Grima's back to the weak point. And when they finally reach it, Chrom prepares to make the final blow. She knows this is the last chance she has.

 

Silently, Tharja leans close and gives Robin a gentle kiss. “Come back to me, okay?”

 

“I will.”

 

“I love you.”

 

Robin reaches up and wipes away her tears. “And I love you. Always. So please, wait for me?”

 

She reaches up and gives her hand one last squeeze. “Of course. D-Don't you dare make me wait too long.”

 

“I wouldn't dare.”

 

And like a gust of wind, she's gone. Her magic striking Grima fatally before Chrom can stop her. Tharja watches from a distance as Robin's figure begins to fade away, a hollow emptiness filling her insides as she does. Death, Tharja swears, would be less painful than this. But even so, with more hope than she's ever had in her life, she waits.

 

* * *

 

Back in Ylisstol, things are both joyous and somber. Grima is gone, for good, but so in turn is Robin. The land both celebrates and mourns. So many lives had Robin touched, directly or indirectly, that her loss affects them all. And although they are relived to be free of the burden, they all silently wonder if it came at too high a cost.

 

Chrom and Tharja take it the hardest, both of them always feeling like they hadn't done enough to spare Robin this unfair fate. But even so, every day Tharja consults her divination with the same question. “Is she back?”

 

For so many weeks and months, the answer comes back “no.”

 

Then one night, Tharja has a dream more vivid than most. It's a future with Robin. They're happy and peaceful and have no worries at all. But one part stands out the most. There's a field, an expansive field unlike anything Tharja's ever seen, and they're laying together in it just holding hands.

 

She wakes up with one thread of hope tugging at her heart. _“Robin told me that Chrom found her in a field. Could it be...”_

 

Tharja rushes to her divination materials, shakily laying them out and trying to prepare herself for the no that has become so frequent. But this time, it gives her a resounding “yes!”

 

She doesn't hesitate to rouse everyone she knows.

 

* * *

 

Lissa huffs. “Chrom, we have to do _something._ ”

 

Chrom looks over to her. “What do you propose we do?”

 

“I... I dunno...”

 

Below them the figure stirs.

 

Chrom smiles. “I see you're awake now.”

 

“Hey there!”

 

“There're better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand.”

 

A hand bearing no strange markings stretches up to take his.

 

“Welcome back. It's over now.”

 

Robin throws her arms around him, tears prickling at her eyes. “Chrom! Lissa!”

 

She reaches out an arm and draws her in too. Beside them Frederick gives her a nod.

 

“Oh gods, how long?”

 

“It doesn't matter.” Chrom can't stop smiling as he firmly plants a hand on her shoulder. “You're here now, that's what's most important.”

 

She smiles. Her eyes scan around her. “Where is...everyone else?”

 

Chrom points to a movement coming towards them. “On their way. Tharja sent us ahead just in case.”

 

Flying, riding or running- the Shepherds reach her one by one. She greets them all in turns, all smiles and hugs. Towards the back, hanging in the shadows of the cacophony, someone catches her eye.

 

“Tharja!”

 

She yells out and rushes through the throng of people towards her, not a care in the world. Tharja smiles as the blur of purple and white reaches her and they both topple in a heap to the ground.

 

Robin's laughing and peppering her face in kisses. Tharja holds her close, her smile as bright as Robin's ever seen.

 

“Welcome home, Robin.”

 

“Yes, yes...I'm home now. And you're not ever going to get rid of me again!”

 

Tharja chuckles. “I suppose I can live with that.”

 

“Good. Because I've had some time to think about it, and I was thinking...will you marry me, Tharja?”

 

She kisses her fiercely, each one deeper than the last. Finally, she pauses and smiles. “Yes, Robin. A thousand times, yes.”

 

Tharja kisses her once more before yelling over her shoulder at a familiar pair of legs.

 

“Libra, you better marry us or I'm going to murder you!”

 

“Ah, how did you know I was just seeking out someone to off this strange fellow that looks oddly like a woman?”

 

Tharja starts to get up but realizes she'd much rather remain where she is with Robin sitting atop her.

 

“Be glad my fiance is so kindly holding me down so I cannot curse you today.”

 

Libra laughs. “Let's save the cursing until after the wedding. It tends to spoil the mood.”

 

Tharja points at everyone else from where she sits. “And all you jerks are invited because Robin is too nice. Be thankful.”

 

All of them laugh, knowing quite well that Tharja cares about each and every one of them. Nowi appears at her shoulder asking if she can be a bridesmaid and before Tharja and Robin know it, everyone has offered to participate or contribute in some way or another.

 

Robin rolls over aside Tharja in the grass and takes her hand. She smiles, warm and bright.

 

“It's good to be home.”

 

THE END

 

 


End file.
